


never ever (let you go)

by wangja (ohbirds)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Friendship, Gen, OT7, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:25:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohbirds/pseuds/wangja
Summary: They stood there, seven breathing as one, until the sun went down.





	never ever (let you go)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this.](https://youtu.be/ShCYabikqOs)
> 
> i wrote this under an hour and since this is unbeta'd, i apologize for any mistakes.

Filming on the top of a snow-covered mountain in this weather was not one of their finest ideas. Yugyeom was going to freeze to death in his billowy white shirt and tight black pants that did little to protect him from the ferocious winds. Youngjae, who was standing next to him, was better covered than he was (at least he had a sweater on top of his shirt) but he was shivering just as much as Yugyeom was.

Yugyeom, feeling sorry for him, took Youngjae's hands in his own to help warm them up. His own hands were blocks of ice but there was nothing else they could do and walking down the mountain top to fetch an extra pair of gloves and coming up again was not an option. They were running short on time and daylight was fading.

Youngjae burrowed into his side, groaning softly. As much as Yugyeom wanted to snap at him, his heart wasn't in it. It wasn't Youngjae's fault the stylists had designed their wardrobes this way.

Yugyeom let out a startled yelp as Youngjae's hands dove into his shirt, ice pressing up against his warm skin. Yugyeom's stomach tried to flinch away from Youngjae's cold fingers but he was insistent, digging his fingertips into warm skin. Yugyeom wanted to shout at him but he was also grateful for the warmth emanating from Youngjae pressed up against his back. 

Heat travels from hot medium to cold medium, his physics teacher had told him. He recalled a diagram of heat, travelling in the form of red and green arrows, to a block of ice. Yugyeom imagined the heat being transferred into Youngjae's hands in the form of colorful arrows. 

They must have looked ridiculous but neither of them cared. Yugyeom glanced up and spotted Bambam, who was in the same outfit as him, huddled up in the coat the stylists had put on Mark. A few feet to his right, owner of said coat was wrapped around Jackson who had his arms around Mark, rubbing his hands up and down his back to warm him up. 

Jaebum was standing next to the director and reviewing the tape, a furrow between his brows. Yugyeom prayed they wouldn't ask for a do-over. He didn't think any of them had it in them to go another round. Jinyoung was nowhere to be seen. 

Jinyoung appeared, as if out of thin air, with a huge puffer jacket that he draped over the both of them, tucking them both under it.

His hair was in a disarray, one strand standing up like a radar which made Yugyeom smile. Jinyoung made sure they were both covered and tucked himself under Yugyeom's arm, exhaling a tired sigh. Youngjae had gone pliant against his back, his hands no longer cold. He hadn't even acknowledged Jinyoung. Yugyeom wondered if he had fallen asleep, standing up. He'd done it before.

Yugyeom yawned widely and realized how tired he was. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back and letting it rest on top of Youngjae's head. At some point, he felt Mark, Bambam and Jackson tuck themselves in wherever they could fit. Yugyeom felt as if he was in a warm, breathing cocoon. 

Snow crunched loudly and Jaebum joined them, tucking himself into their little huddle. Everyone shifted to accomodate him. Jaebum sighed once he was tucked between Mark and Yugyeom, his head resting on Yugyeom's shoulder. The slight scent of Jaebum's cologne reached him. He wore that cologne so frequently that Yugyeom smelled it even when Jaebum wasn't wearing it. It had seeped into his skin and become a part of his natural scent. 

For a group of people that were usually rowdy and animated, they were unusually quiet. The quiet wasn't disconcerting; it had a language of its own. A language that only the seven of them knew, formed over the years they spent in each other's spaces.

There was a click of their picture being taken. No one moved, no one said anything.

They stood there, seven breathing as one, until the sun went down. 

-

_**fin.** _

**Author's Note:**

> it's like 14° over here and i'm in my got7 feels. 
> 
> i can't believe they made the boys dance in such freezing weather, dudes must have frozen their junk off. they looked so cold, i felt bad for them.
> 
> the weather is cold so don't forget to dress warmly and moisturize daily! xo


End file.
